Praying for the Dawn
by midnightphantom13
Summary: There's a reason behind Hermione's know-it-all attitude. Maybe the Granger family's perfect model life is just a clever facade. What happens when her secret is spilled and the most unlikely person helps her. HGRL Rated M for language, abuse, and sexual content. The previous fic by this name has been scrapped, edited, expanded, and replaced with this. Reviews are appreciated!
1. Author's Note (Created July 17th, 2013)

Greetings my lovely readers and reviewers!

It certainly has been a while hasn't it? I'm here to announce that my Hermione/Remus fan fic _Praying for the Dawn_ is being re-written and expanded.

Why are you re-writing it, you ask?

Well, I wrote this fan fic when I was 16 years old and in a very dark place in my life. My skills at writing were rudimentary, at best, and I can no longer bear to re-read this fic without cringing. Even at 10 chapters, the story is way too fast – especially for a pre-established/going to be established Remus/Hermione fic. (Think of all of that emotional and romantic tension I missed!).

Now that I am a few years older and hopefully more mature, I want to re-write this story and tell it in the manner that it was meant to be told.

I am expecting to keep the storyline pretty close to the same; however, I am considering cutting the whole Hermione/werewolf thing. As much as I love those kinds of fics, I found that my writing of it made the already cliché storyline nauseating. I want to focus more on Hermione and Remus's relationship in the context of her abuse. I also wanted to develop the psychological trauma that Hermione endured because she is a victim of abuse instead of simply being okay and happy at the end.

I am looking for a Beta to help give me his or her own thoughts on this fic and to help me make it more dynamic and detailed. So PM me if you are interested!

I look forward to your feedback ladies and gents!

Sincerely,

midnightphantom13


	2. Chapter 1

**A.N. If you read Praying for the Dawn back in its infancy, then you may want to check my author's note because a lot has changed. The story has been cleaned up, edited, and expanded. I doubt that I will stick to the storyline of the previous fic. Things are still up for grabs as to where I want this story to go. Nevertheless, I can guarantee that this fic will be full of Remus/Hermione goodies, frequent violence, mature language, and eventual lemons. Reader discretion is advised. **

**As always, reviews are appreciated. I cannot get better if I don't receive constructive criticism. R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in J.K. Rowling's **_**Harry Potter**_** series. I am simply borrowing them for my entertainment and, hopefully, yours.**

Chapter 1

To many of her classmates, Hermione Granger's life was almost perfect. She was one of the most talented witches in her class, had two devoted best friends who would die for her, and was well-liked and admired among the Hogwarts faculty for her academic achievements and general drive to succeed.

Certainly, the summer before her 7th and final year at Hogwarts should have been cause for celebration and not the abject horror Hermione felt as she tried to concentrate on her summer homework.

She was seated at her small desk trying to finish her essay for Muggle Studies but couldn't keep her eyes off of the alarm clock that sat on her dresser. She had broken two quills already which had left ugly ink blotches all over her paper.

The clock read 11:52PM when she glanced at it for the fifteenth time that hour. Her father was supposed to be home an hour ago and she was under his strict orders to wait for him to get home.

Hermione looked forlornly over at the letters that Ron and Harry had been sending her. Reading about their time at Grimwauld Place, getting into mischief, dueling with Fred and George, and feasting on Mrs. Weasly's excellent cooking, made a twinge of jealousy rise up in her chest.

Although she only had a week left to endure living with her father before she would be reunited with Harry and Ron, Hermione still felt isolated by her circumstance. Since her father and mother divorced during her 4th year, her father had began to drink heavily and during his drunken episodes would take to treating Hermione like his personal punching bag. She worked very hard at hiding the bruises and welts he inflicted, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult as his beatings progressively got worse. However, her steady use of Muggle antiseptic, bandages, talented makeup application, and constant lying made most of her injuries passable as something they weren't.

The clock now read 12:03AM. Giving up any attempts to finish her essay tonight, Hermione rolled up the parchment and put it in her trunk. She glanced down at Crookshanks's food dish at the bottom of her trunk and felt her eyes mist over. She had given Crookshanks to Susan Bones in her 5th year (Much to Ron's and Harry's relief) after her father kicked him down their flight of stairs for getting under his feet.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights illuminated her bedroom window. She ran over and looked out the window and saw her father had swerved into their driveway and ran over their two garbage cans and parked over the top of the daffodils she had planted (and would be expected to now replant). His string of curses cut through the night silence as he stumbled out of the driver's seat. Hermione ran downstairs and unlocked the door for her drunken father and watched in certain horror as he stumbled across the threshold.

"What 'er you doin' up?" He slurred. Mr. Granger was handsome at one time, but several years of intense alcohol abuse gave his eyes a sunken and bloodshot appearance and made what hair that he once had sparse and greasy. Even his physique was beginning to feel the effects of his drinking. His belt could barely contain his expansive stomach and his clothing was constantly doused in sweat that reeked of booze.

"I was waiting up for you." Hermione replied meekly, not making eye contact with her father, "I wanted to make sure that you made it home okay."

"And what are you, my mother?" He snapped, "I don't need you asking where I am and policing my every movement. I'm your father dammit! I deserve respect."

Hermione backed away from her father and held her breath, her eyes downcast and not looking the monster in the eye. His ridiculous accusations and twisting her words around was a tell-tale sign that he was going to be especially angry and violent tonight.

"No dad. I didn't mean it like that. I, I just wanted to make sure you got home safe because I love you." Sometimes buttering up her father worked, but tonight it didn't.

"Bullshit you lying whore." Sometimes his words cut worse than his physical punishments did, "You don't love me. You are just going to leave me when you get the chance. You're just like your mother, you know. Your mother left me after I caught her fucking her boss in our bed."

She had heard this story more than a dozen times and he would always bring it up to make Hermione feel especially guilty – not because he was right, however – but because she remembered that night a little differently.

Hermione's mother, Ann, left after her father punched her in the face for accidentally dropping his dinner on the floor. Their yelling and her screams for help echoed through their house until well past midnight. When Hermione woke up in the morning, all of Ann's stuff was gone and her father beat her until he collapsed, sobbing, against their kitchen countertop.

Hermione knew that her mother was alive somewhere only because the police kept visiting their house every month that first year to follow up on domestic abuse complaints that were made by her and other anonymous tippers. Hermione felt like she was in between a rock and a hard place. Her father's best friend was a member of the police force and he helped make the complaints disappear. For nearly five years, Hermione felt entirely alone.

Hermione's father went to the fridge and grabbed four beers, opened two, and began drinking them like they were water. He then went to the freezer and found that his two bottles of vodka were gone.

"You." He growled as he stalked towards her. "What did you do you little bitch?"

"I poured them down the drain. You drink too much." She whispered and braced herself as her father's hand came down across her face.

He let out a guttural roar and began tearing open cabinets, drawers, and even pulling down the light fixture from the ceiling to find his stashes of booze.

"Don't bother looking for them. I found them all, even the two flasks that you hid inside of the watermelon in the fridge." Hermione said, watching her father out of the corner of her eye.

Her father turned around slowly. All color had drained from his face and yet his eyes held a psychotic fire in them which worried Hermione.

She bounded up the stairs with her father close on her heels. When she made it to the landing, her father grabbed her ankle and which sent her sprawling across the floor.

"You. Little. Bitch." He snarled as he struck her in tempo with his curses.

Hermione curled herself into the fetal position and prepared for the onslaught.

"Oh no you don't." Her father spat as he grabbed her thick, curly hair and dragged her across the hardwood floor and into her room.

"Please! Stop!" Hermione cried as his strikes moved away from her face and towards the rest of her body.

Her father briefly stopped to grab the baseball bat from his room and aimed a couple of good swings to her ribcage which emitted a sickening crack.

Hermione screamed in intense pain and thought, _So this is how I die? At the hands of my own father?_ Before she lost consciousness and passed out.

~/~

When Hermione awoke, she was still laying on her bedroom floor. The wooden baseball bat that her father had used had splotches of red stained in the wood which made Hermione' stomach twist and turn inside her body. She could barely take in a breath without crying out.

"_Merlin_..." she swore, as she tried to turn onto her back without aggravating her injuries too much. Hermione gingerly touched her face and found her entire left eye was swollen shut and felt blood that had matted to her hair.

It took every ounce of Hermione's waning strength to slowly crawl across her bedroom floor and to her dresser where her wand was lying.

After nearly thirty minutes of work with very rudimentary and basic healing spells, Hermione had healed her broken nose, split lip, ruptured ear drum, and cleaned most of the blood off of her face. However, she didn't have the skill to repair her broken ribs.

It took a herculean effort for her to simply pull herself up onto the bed, but once she did, she passed out again.

Surprisingly, the next few days went without incident. Perhaps she got lucky or perhaps her father felt guilty about the severity of her beating because he left her alone for the duration of the week. He would come home from the pub drunk every night, smash and break things in the kitchen, and then pass out on the couch until the three alarms he set woke up him to go to work.

By Saturday, most of the swelling in Hermione's face had gone down and the lacerations that covered her body healed. Her ribs, however, were still tender to the touch and smarted fiercely when she took in too deep a breath.

Hermione heard the doorbell ring and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Anxiety and a twinge of happy excitement filled her body. _I am finally saved_. She thought.

"Just a minute!" She called down the stairs and surveyed herself once more in the mirror. The makeup job she did looked passable and the darkest bruises on her neck and shoulders were hidden by her thick bushy hair. She grabbed her small knapsack and looked at her bedroom one last time vowing that she would never return.

Hermione walked downstairs and opened the front door and saw Remus Lupin casually lounging against the door frame.

"Hello, Professor." She said meekly.

He chuckled, "Hermione, I'm not your professor anymore. Please, Remus will do. Are you ready to go?"

He smiled down at the witch in front of him. Out of all of his former students and friends, Hermione was his favorite person to be around. Her thirst for knowledge and her inquisitive mind only served to enhance and accent her other great attributes.

"Yes, I have everything packed upstairs."

"I'll be by again later tonight to pick up your things. Professor Dumbledore has been overly cautious this summer about the traffic going in and out of Grimwauld Place. I guess he doesn't want to make it obvious that we have several underage wizards, well more accurately having Harry, living under our roof."

Hermione balked. _Remus couldn't come back tonight to get her things. He_ _would see my father drunk and probably pissed off_. _He would figure out everything right away._

"Uh no, it's okay. I'll just send them to Grimwald Place now. I won't be a minute." She dashed back upstairs before Remus could refuse.

He was taken aback by her sudden impulsivity and flightiness. Granted he didn't see much of her outside of Grimwald Place, but he couldn't remember a time when she was this ... unsettled about something that wasn't school-related.

"So how are we getting to Headquarters?" She asked breathlessly. True to her word, Hermione was back with just a small suitcase in addition to her rucksack.

When she returned, he caught a whir of a sweet and musky smell that called out to his wolf. She smelled of fear. _Get a grip of yourself Moony. _He thought and tried to push this intrusive thought from his mind.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your mother and father?" he asked, trying to draw his attention back to the matter at hand. "You probably won't see them until the Christmas holidays."

"Oh, well mum is visiting her parents for the weekend and my dad is at work." Hermione hated how easy lying was becoming for her. "They know that term starts soon so we said our goodbyes last night."

"Well, maybe you should just leave a note instead."

"Honestly Remus, I'm fine. I'm already of wizard legal age and I'm almost of Muggle legal age. They won't worry about me. So how are we getting to headquarters?"

"A portkey." He replied, drawing a broken pocketwatch out of his pocket. He didn't believe Hermione's story. She looked nervous and agitated whenever she talked to him. And the stink of fear that radiated off of her body proved that she was obviously hiding something, but he didn't want to press the issue further.

"We should go someplace a little more private first." Remus said, placing a guiding hand on the small of her back caused her to whimper in pain.

Remus drew back his hand like he had been shocked. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

"Uh, yes, yes. I fell off of my bed and clipped my dresser a few nights ago and it is just starting to bruise. I'm so clumsy. I'll be fine. Do you think the thicket behind the park is private enough?"

"Uh yes. As long as we are hidden from Muggles it should work." Remus noticed the smooth change in conversation but again decided to let it slide.

They found a spot that was secluded in the brambles and bushes and he pulled out the pocketwatch again.

"Hermione, if you'd please touch it. It is almost time."

Hermione placed a finger on the watch and felt a familiar tug as her feet left the ground. Her body was immobilized as they whirled through a psychedelic vortex of colors and shapes. Fighting nausea, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to brace herself for their landing. When their feet touched the ground, her felt as though they had turned to jelly and she crumpled against Remus as her body fought to support her weight. She cried out in pain as his elbow accidentally made contact with her ribs.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

Her body was collapsed into his. If it wasn't for his embrace she would have collapsed on the ground.

"Hermione!" He said, this time more severely. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Yes Prof – I mean Remus. I wasn't expecting such a rough landing and it only exacerbated my pre-existing injuries."

"You mean from when you fell off of your bed and clipped your dresser?" He asked sardonically.

"Uh. Yes."

"Perhaps you should have Molly look at your injuries." He replied.

"No, no. I just need to rest it." She replied and began to walk down the street towards Grimwald Place.

Hermione glanced around at the Muggles living peacefully in the flats nearby trying to ignore Remus's heated stare. A little girl was baking cookies with her mum and a teenage boy and his father were engrossed in the football match. Their families looked so perfect and Hermione had to push down the jealousy and bitterness that bubbled to the surface.

Remus knocked four times on the old wooden door that marked the entrance to Grimwald Place and it swung open with a squeak. Despite the dreary weather outside, the atmosphere inside was cheery and warm. Hermione could smell Mrs. Weasly's cooking and saw several pots full of stews and puddings bubbling in the hearth. Dozens of pies and other pastries were sitting on any open countertops that were available. Two were even levitating off of the ground.

"Molly?" Remus called out. "Hermione is here."

"Oh Hermione! It's so nice to have you here, dear." Molly cried as she emerged from the kitchen. She swept Hermione into a giant hug which took every inch of willpower to not cry out from the pain emitting from her ribs.

"Molly, don't squeeze the poor girl to death. She's a little battered up. It seems she took a spill earlier in the week and clipped her dresser." Remus said with a slight smirk.

Hermione's expression automatically soured. _Damn him. Why is he trying to make this so difficult on me?_ She thought.

"Oh you poor dear. Be more careful. You might give Tonks a running for most clumsy in this family." tutted Molly, "You march right up to Ginny's room. Your stuff is already there. I'll be up in a bit with some salve and some food and then it is off to bed with you. You look like you haven't slept all week. I'll come wake you up when it is time for dinner. We are having a celebratory feast for all of the children and Order members before the start of a new term at Hogwarts."

Hermione tried to protest but they fell on deaf ears as she was literally dragged to the room that Ginny was staying in. The door closed and an awkward silence filled the room. Ginny's owl, Petra, hooted indignantly in its cage.

"Hermione!" Two voices cried. She swung around just in time to see Ron's red hair and the glint of Harry's glasses as they both swept her up for a group hug.

"When did you get here?"

"Why haven't you responded to our letters?"

"Did you finish your Potions essay? I'm still a half a length short."

Questions bombarded her and she desperately wanted to disparate elsewhere. Her body burned from their strong embraces and she began to wheeze. Hearing her distress, the boys let go of her immediately and backed away with faces etched with concern.

"Be gentle boys," she half chided and half choked out, "You both are a lot stronger than you think."

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"Yes, yes." She replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. She tried to straighten her spine but a sharp pain in her side and back threatened to take the wind from her again. Instead, she sank heavily onto her bed. "I'm just not use to being attacked by fully grown apes"

"Oi, who are you calling an ape?" Ron joked. "It isn't mine and Harry's fault that you're so dainty and small."

"Hermione," Harry said as he took a seat on Ginny's bed. "I find it funny that I'm asking this of you, but why didn't you answer any of our letters? Ron and I must have sent you at least seven apiece."

"Oh you know how it is Harry with Muggle parents. I don't have an owl and I didn't have a way to mail you the letters here without giving away the location if it were to be intercepted." She replied, lying again. Actually, Hedwig had waited dutifully by her window after each delivery. That was until her father tried to poison her when Hermione was out buying groceries.

"Oh. Well didn't Hedwig wait for you to write a response? I specifically asked her to."

"Nope. She took off right after she delivered the letter. She doesn't like to stick around." Hermione replied a little guiltily, this was her third lie in less than ten minutes. "I guess I don't have the affinity with owls like you have Harry."

Harry still wasn't convinced but he let the issue go. "Well, it's nice to see you 'Mione. We've missed you terribly and Ron's missed copying off of your essays."

"Oi! I've missed her too. But, Harry's right. You never answered my question. Did you finish your Potions essay? I'm still half a parchment length short and I couldn't think of anything else to add."

Before Hermione could answer Molly barged through the open door. "Ronald Weasly, you will be doing your own homework and you will let Hermione rest. She just got here. Let her have some time to rest. Besides, your father needs help clearing that boggart from the cupboard downstairs. It seems like the one in the wardrobe wasn't the only one left."

Ron sighed and slunk out with Harry in tow. "Sleep well Hermione." Harry said.

Mrs. Weasly shook her head in exacerbation and closed the door. She conjured up a tray of mini pies, small sandwiches, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice with a couple of cups and set them on Hermione's dresser.

"Here is that ointment for your side dear." She said, fishing a small round container out of her apron pocket. "Now if you'll just raise your shirt and show me where it hurts, I'll have you right as rain in no time."

"Uh...Mrs. Weasly. I don't think that's necessary. I can put it on myself."

"Come now girl. Don't be shy." Mrs. Weasly replied thinking Hermione's hesitation was out of fear that she would see her partially naked. "I've raised seven kids. You won't be showing me anything I haven't seen before. Besides I'll need to take a look at it to make sure it isn't too serious."

Hermione jumped back from Mrs. Weasly's touch and shrank back on the bed. "No, I insist that I do it myself. It's really not as bad as I am making it out to be. I can be a baby sometimes, I guess. I'm sorry Mrs. Weasly. Really I am. I shouldn't have troubled you."

Mrs. Weasly was skeptical but finally relented. "Alright, if you're sure. I'll just leave this here then. Use it sparingly though Hermione, it is pretty powerful stuff."

"Yes, I will. Thank you Mrs. Weasly."

"Not a problem, dear. Now you help yourself to some food and rest for a bit. I'll have Ginny come wake you when the party starts."

Mrs. Weasly left the room and Hermione finally let most of her tension drift away. Exhausting at it was to keep up this charade; Hermione couldn't bear to see the looks of pity, and possibly disappointment, on their face if they found out the truth.

After washing her face in the basin on the dresser and sampling some of the delicious pies and sandwiches, she opened the bottle of salve that Mrs. Weasly left and squeezed a knut-sized dab onto her hand. Walking over to the full length mirror, Hermione unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and lifted her tank top up to her chest. She would have gasped if it didn't hurt to do so. Her stomach and sides were covered in ugly yellow, black, and blue splotches. Ugly deep purple lines marked where her ribs were broken and the pain was nearly unbearable when she put the salve on her skin.

It took nearly half of the bottle to make any impact on the bruises that covered her torso. However, it seemed as though the ointment only healed surface bruises because her ribs were still decidedly broken.

After Hermione had addressed the bruises that she was able to reach comfortably – the ones on her back and the back of her legs would have to wait until later – she tried to raise her shirt over her head but cried out as her body protested. Emitting a long and frustrated sigh, she threw back the quilt on her bed and gingerly laid herself down.

Hermione felt safe lying in the bed. She knew she was surrounded by people who cared and loved her, but she still felt uncomfortable letting them in on this deep, dark secret.

_You have to tell someone, _she told herself. _They all care about you and want to help you_.

While this was definitely true, Hermione couldn't push out the sick, nervous feeling that was twisting in her gut.

_Alright,_ she grudgingly conceded, _I'll tell Remus as soon as I wake up._

For the first time in over three months, Hermione fell asleep with a smile on her face and without tear-stains on her pillow.


	3. Chapter 2

**A.N. I apologize about the delay. I was waiting for Remus's biography to be published on the Pottermore website before I went on with the re-write. Also, I am trying to stick as close to the original cannon as possible. Certain things – like the trio's search for the Horcruxes and character deaths – may be delayed or re-worked. **

Chapter 2

Remus looked troubled as he was sitting at the kitchen table. His tea had long cooled and his eyes uselessly scanned the _Daily Prophet_ as he read the same line four times. His mind was focused, instead, on Hermione as he mused about how to approach the witch with his concerns.

"Remus?'

"Remus..."

"LUPIN!" Mad-Eye Moody shouted.

Remus jumped and folded the paper. The entire Order was staring at him expectantly and he suddenly felt like a schoolboy who was caught without an answer when the teacher called on him.

"What do you think about Fudge's article on the new werewolf segregation law that Scrimgeour is imposing." Moody growled impatiently.

"I...uh...well." He cleared his throat nervously. He frantically racked his brain as he tried to remember the nature of the Order's meeting. _Ah, yes._ He thought grimly. The Order had just received news that Scrimgeor, in an attempt to subvert some of the damages that Fudge made during his tenure as Minister of Magic, was trying to pass a new set of werewolf segregation laws in order to prove his merit and strength as Minister.

"While Fudge's laws were not kind towards werewolves, Scrimgeor's laws seem almost tyrannical and will almost certainly do more harm than good."

"What sort of new laws is he imposing?" Arthur Weasly asked.

"Listen to this" Remus commented and read aloud from the _Daily Prophet_.

_Delores Umbridge, Head of the Muggle Born Registration Commission, was praised by the Minister of Magic for her work on the Anti-Werewolf Legislation which was passed into law yesterday. She is quoted as saying, 'Seeing this law pass has been the shining moment in my career and in my life. All I want is to protect the wizarding community from threats – especially ones hiding in plain sight – so our precious children can inhabit a world where they no longer have to fear these filthy half-breeds who are traitors to the wizarding world'._

_Madame Umbridge's legislation includes a set of laws that will go into effect immediately. _

'_Those witches or wizards inflicted with the lycanthropy curse are forbidden from the following:_

_Applying for and/or working at a job that puts him or herself within a close proximity to wizards and/or Muggles._

_Residing in, leasing, renting, or owning a house that is located within 15 square miles of a Wizard's or Muggle's residence_

_Please note that any witch or wizard who is caught harboring a registered werewolf will be heavily fined and possibly subjected to imprisonment in Azkaban._

_Engaging in any sort of relationship – even if they are mutually consensual – with witches or wizards. Sexual relationships and marriage are forbidden. Marriages between a werewolf and a witch or wizard will not be considered as legalized and those couples who are caught will be fined and may be subjected to imprisonment in Azkaban._

_The selling, purchasing, and brewing of the Wolfsbane Potion is strictly forbidden. Any wizard caught violating this law will be fined heavily and possibly imprisoned. Werewolves who are found in their bestial form WILL be killed on sight.'_

Remus's voice faltered as he read the last sentence and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop a throbbing headache that threatened to surface. "No one in the ministry understands that harsher anti-werewolf laws are only going to force more werewolves to join the Dark Lord's side!" He exclaimed.

"Speaking of that, how has the recruitment been going?" Molly asked.

"I've spent most of my Christmas holiday with a pack in Norway, but most of them either don't want to get involved or are considering on joining You-Know-Who's side. While their laws are not as strict over there, they still are subjected to serious poverty and those who do work can only find jobs in factories and in mines where they are chained up like dogs 24 hours a day."

"However, I am worried that my presence here will draw unwanted attention to the Headquarters." Remus added. "I do not want to put any of you in danger of imprisonment for harboring me. I am registered with the department and it is only a matter of time before they use wards and magical tracers to search for me."

"Oh come off it Remus," Tonks chided, "Sirius's house is protected against all manner of spells or curses. The only wards that are on this place are Dumbledore's. You're safer here than anywhere else."

"And when I transform on the nights of a full moon, what then?" Remus asked harshly, "I will not put you all in danger by doing that here and since the Shrieking Shack has been ... compromised – "

In fact, all of Hogsmade was under Voldemort's control. Death Eaters patrolled the streets relentlessly and Snape, working under Voldemort's orders, burned the Shrieking Shack to the ground.

"You're right." Moody gruffly replied, "The full moon is in a week and a half. In no less than a week you will stay with the Edinburgh pack until this blows over."

Remus agreed. The Edinburgh pack, although still wild and refusing to conform to societal rules, was the last pack to have remained impartial and refused to take a side in the upcoming war.

"Meeting's adjured." Moody barked and disapparate with a pop.

"Well, I'll go call the kids down for some dinner. I'm sure they will be hungry." Molly announced to break the tense silence.

Remus sighed and rose from his chair, "I'll help you Molly. I would like a word with you anyways."

"Of course." She replied. Molly guided the werewolf into the Sirius's study. A pang of sadness pulled at Remus's heart as Sirius's favorite armchair sat without its occupant and the fireplace sat unused, cold and dormant.

"I don't believe Hermione's story about how she hurt herself." Remus stated as he closed the door.

"I know the injuries one can sustain from common household furniture" he replied grimly, thinking back to his transformations at the Shrieking Shack, "Her injuries do not match. I also ... smelled ... much fear and anxiety when I picked her up at her family's home. At first I thought her anxiousness stemmed from You-Know-Who's growing power, but now I think that she fears something much closer to home."

"You think she got those injuries from her home? From her Muggle parents?" Molly whispered.

"Not her Muggle parents," Remus replied, "but her Muggle father. I don't think her mother is living there anymore, at least I was unable to smell her in the house, but the stench of alcohol – _and blood_ – was overwhelming."

Molly sighed heavily and looked at Remus. Her eyes were blazing with a passionate fire that only an angry mother could feel. "I ... I think of her as my own daughter, Remus. Her and Ginny get along famously. It breaks my heart to know that her _father_ – "she spat – "cares so little for her. She's brilliant Remus! She's the top of her class. Harry and Ron - especially Ron – wouldn't be doing as well in school without her guidance."

Tears shone in Molly's eyes and Remus pulled her into a hug. Molly, the self-imposed matriarch of her family and of a band of misfit, renegade freedom-fighters, sobbed in Remus's arms.

"You know that's my greatest fear Remus. You saw the boggart. I couldn't bear it if she were to die."

Remus soothed Molly and broke away from the hug when he was sure that Molly's displaced emotions had run their course. He didn't know what to say to the distraught witch. He couldn't promise her that Hermione wouldn't die. _Everyone's lives are in jeopardy with the Dark Lord's return_, he reasoned. But somewhere deep inside Remus felt a deep protectiveness, and dare he say _affection_, for the young witch.

"Nothing is going to happen to her Molly." Remus promised.

Mrs. Weasly patted her eyes dry with her apron. "You're a good man, Remus. Thank you. Now I've got to be off. So much to do before dinner. I've still got pies to make!"

Remus smiled as he made his way slowly up the staircase. Leave it to Molly to fill the kitchen with pies and still feel the need to make more. As he approached the first landing, he turned down the hallway that led to the room that Ginny and Hermione shared. Before he fully understood what he was doing, Remus knocked softly on Hermione's bedroom door.

There was no answer.

"Hermione?" He opened the door a crack and saw the young woman tangled up in the blankets like a fish in a net.

"Hermione, are you awake?" He asked again. This time the form moved. Her bleary, sleep-filled eyes met Remus's and it took her a full second or two to realize who was standing in her doorway.

"Prof-I mean Remus?" She winced as she tried to raise herself into a sitting position on the bed, "Is it time for dinner already?"

"Uh, no." He replied, now realizing that he – a grown man – was in a woman's private bedroom. He felt his cheeks turn warm and sincerely hoped that Hermione couldn't see the blush coloring his face. "I – uh – just wanted to check on you, I mean check your injuries."

_Smooth Moony_. He thought trying. _You've known this girl for nearly 4 years. Why are you blubbering like a love-struck schoolboy now?_

"Oh," Hermione replied darkly, "I'm fine. Really, I don't know what all of the fuss is about."

"Hermione. I know you're not fine." Remus said sternly, "I know you didn't get those injuries from falling off your bed and hitting your dresser. I should know. I'm the king of furniture-inflicted injuries. I break stuff in my room almost every month."

Panic, fear, and even anger flashed across Hermione's face as she realized that she had been found out.

_You were going to tell him anyway. Why are you being such a baby?_ She thought to herself.

But_, why should you tell anyone? _Hermione's darker conscious countered, _it's not as though they even care about you. This abuse has been going on for nearly four years and no one ever confronted her about it before._

Hermione sighed and untangled herself from the blankets. "You're not going to like what you see." She warned, "I have bruises on the back of my thighs, all over my back, and on my shoulders and neck. I'm pretty sure that I have a few broken ribs too."

Hermione raised her sleep shirt just enough to show the large red and purple bruise that colored her lower left side.

Remus stifled a gasp as he saw the extent of her injuries and immediately felt the wolf flare up as his rage boiled beneath the surface. It took incredible willpower to suppress the voice in his head that was screaming '_kill him_'. The protectiveness that he felt for Hermione shocked him. While he certainly cared about her as his ex-student and friend, his wolf was treating her abuse as a violation of something much deeper.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Remus asked gently and took a seat on the bed next to Hermione. "I promise that he will not be able to hurt you anymore."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione recounted the nightmares that she experienced each summer and how her father's alcoholism and abuse got progressively worse as the years progressed. She told Remus everything.

"The week before you came to pick me up, I found all of the alcohol that he hid and poured it all down the drain. He beat me with his baseball bat."

"What about the police? What about telling someone at Hogwarts? It hurts to imagine that you felt that you had to go back to this abuse year after year." Remus said.

"The police?" Hermione spat, "Why would they do anything? They all knew my father and quite a few visited his dental office when he had the practice. They all knew that he was a drunk and yet they did nothing!"

"But Hogwarts?" Remus insisted, "Surly someone like – "

" – like who? Professor Dumbledore was too busy with Harry. My unfortunate circumstance seems rather insignificant when compared to having the world end at the hands of You-Know-Who . And McGonagall? I could see it now. She would tut about how such a brilliant witch got herself into such a bad situation and I would have Madame Pomfrey fuss over me. Imagine the embarrassment! Hermione "the brightest witch of her age" gets slaps around by her father when she is home on Christmas and summer holiday. Surly she could've managed to get herself out of this situation, being so clever and all."

"Don't blame this on yourself Hermione. What your father did to you is _not_ your fault." Remus said and gently held her hands. Hermione brushed her tears from her eyes and looked away sheepishly. She hated crying in front of people.

"I'm sorry that I upset you. I'll go now and – "

"No! I mean, please don't go." Hermione pleaded, "Could you please stay with me when I tell Mrs. Weasly. As much as it hurts me to make her worry more – Merlin knows that she has enough on her plate – I think she needs to know."

"Hermione, I have a slight confession to make. Molly already knows how you got these injuries."

"How- "

"Just let me finish," Remus interjected, holding his hand to stop the witch, "I had my suspicions when I picked you up at your father's house. You shrieked away from my touch, you were very nervous and flighty, and tense. Molly had similar suspicions as well. She confronted me with them while you slept."

"She cares for you 'Mione."

Remus's use of her pet name and his genuine look of concern in his eyes softened the betrayal she felt and eased her shame.

"Who else knows about this?"

"Just Molly and I." Remus replied, "However, I hope that you'll trust in your friends enough to tell them eventually. We all care about you Hermione. It pains us to see you hurting and suffering."

Remus rose from the bed and gently kissed the witch's forehead. "I will be right back, I promise. Molly will have you feeling right as rain in no time."

Hermione nodded and touched the spot where he kissed her. Her skin burned slightly and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. _Get a grip you ninny. She scolded herself, He meant nothing by that. Don't go making something out of nothing. He is old enough to be your father. Quit your schoolgirl swooning and get a grip on yourself!_

Yet, despite her reasoning she was left alone with her conflicting thoughts and couldn't help but wonder why such a chaste and almost paternal gesture make her stomach tumble and flip?

**Much gratitude goes out to those of you who have reviewed, added me on your author alerts, or favorite my story. Your support means a lot. Thank you. R&R!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A.N. Thanks for being patient with my absence. I have a bad habit of 'falling out of love' with my fanfiction, but can assure you that was not the case with this chapter. Actually, I was busy getting married. I'm grateful to all of you who have reviewed and added this story to your favorites list. Knowing that my writing is enjoyed by others is inspiring and rewarding. **

**Disclaimer: All of the intellectual rights of the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing the characters and the universe to entertain myself (and to, hopefully, entertain my readers).**

Chapter 3

"Please Mrs. Weasly, I promise that I'll be alright. The salve you gave me has healed the bruises that I was able to reach. You really don't need to do this." Hermione grumbled.

Just as Hermione expected, Molly began fussing over the young witch as soon as Remus called her up to Hermione's room. Despite the woman's plump figure, she flitted around Hermione's bedside like a nimble house elf constantly reassuring the witch with a gentle 'you're alright dear' every time Hermione hissed from the pain of her constant ministrations.

"Okay dear. I'm afraid here comes the worst part." Molly warned and held up Hermione's sleep shirt. The mosaic of red and purple bruises that sat on top of her broken ribs was the last visible injury.

Remus crossed the room and grabbed Hermione's hand. The coolness of his skin against hers was a welcome relief from the throbbing pain that emanated from her side.

"It's okay 'Monie. You just squeeze my hand if it hurts too much." Remus said.

"Okay dear. On the count of three, eh?" Molly said and placed her wand tip on Hermione's side.

"One, – _Coasta Emendo!"_

Hermione screamed out in pain and nearly lurched herself out of the bed, but Remus's strong arms held her steady. A white, hot pain radiated from her ribs as she felt them fuse back together. It was as though someone had placed hot coals inside of her. But as soon as her ribs were fused back together and the swelling and inflammation around the area went down, the pain subsided. Hermione gasped and tried to regulate her breathing now that she could take proper, deep breaths again.

"I thought you said, 'on the count of three,'" She wheezed.

"Sorry dear. I couldn't have you tensing up in anticipation. That would've made the pain worse. It's just like those adhesive bandages the Muggles use. I heard that it hurts less if you rip it off in one go."

"That it does." She said grimly and mostly to herself. "Thank you Mrs. Weasley."

"Not at all dear. I love you Hermione. You're like a second daughter to me. I would do anything for you." Hermione noted Molly's fierce protectiveness and couldn't help but feel touched. After her mother left, Hermione almost forgot the power effect of a mother's love. "Now I've got to see to the final preparations before dinner starts. You just come down when you're ready, dear."

Hermione swore that she could hear Mrs. Weasley sniffling as she made her way back downstairs.

"Here, drink this." Remus said and handed her a small goblet.

The potion inside was an emerald green color and smelled like spearmint. However, it had a very bitter and medicinal taste which made Hermione gag after she finished it.

Remus chuckled and tried to hide his smirk as she shot him an unhappy look. "I'll be the first one to admit that looks can be deceiving when it comes to this potion."

"It tastes like the outside of an orange – bitter and slightly like citrus – " the witch complained.

"I like to think that relief-of-pain potions were purposely made to be bitter to discourage wizards from becoming addicted to their effects." Remus grinned.

Hermione managed a small smile and sat up farther in bed. Surprisingly, and much to her relief, the pain from her healed ribs was almost nonexistent. "It may taste awful," she conceded, "but it works wonders." She stretched and sighed in sweet relief as her body yielded to her demands without a single complaint.

"I ... I'll leave you and let you get ready for dinner." Remus said. He tried to leave nonchalantly, but Hermione's hand shot out and grabbed at his arm.

"Wait! I want to thank you, Remus. You are a good friend and I'm glad that you are around to support me through this. I ... I just don't think I can do it alone." Hermione admitted and looked away as she blushed.

There was a moment of pregnant silence. Was he going to scold her for getting herself in such a situation? Was he going to break down like Molly? Remus did neither and swept Hermione up into a tight hug. Hermione buried her face into his robes and he placed his hand in her luscious and thick curls.

"Hermione." He said with his voice thick with emotion, "You will never have to do this alone."

* * *

Dinner that night was a lovely affair. Molly had outdone herself again. Pies, pastries, puddings, and stew made the wooden kitchen table groan under all of the weight. Hermione helped herself to everything and devoured her first proper meal in almost three months. Ron and Harry sat beside her and all three were laughing as Fred and George demonstrated some of their new Weasley Wizard Wheeze products – much to Molly's chagrin. Despite all of the trouble in their lives, Hermione, Ron, and Harry felt normal for a brief moment.

Harry, Fred, and George were debating whether the features on the new _Nimbus 2001 Elite_ finally outshined those on Harry's _Firebolt_. Ron, Charlie, and Bill were discussing Charlie's newest work with a dragon clan over in Nepal and Molly was fighting with Ginny over her obvious – and rather unfair – disapproval of Ginny's new romantic pen pal from France.

Hermione listened to all of the merry chatter and let all of the normalcy of their dinner wash away her anxieties.

"Wotcher, Hermione!" Tonks said merrily as she took a seat across the table and began loading up a bowl with stew. "Have a good holiday?"

"It was alright" Hermione replied as blasé as she could. Today Tonks was sporting short black hair with electric yellow tips which gleamed magically every time she turned her head.

"That's an interesting choice of hair." She commented, trying to draw attention away from questions about her summer.

"Thanks! Moody won't let me do anything fun with my hair while we are on patrol because he says its 'too ostentatious' but I think he's still mad because I slipped one of Fred and George's temporary hair-dye bath soaps into his bathroom last April."

Hermione choked a little on her stew as she tried to imagine Mad-Eye Moody's hair any other color besides its natural silver-gray.

"It was periwinkle" Tonks winked.

Hermione glanced over at Moody and noticed that he kept his magical eye trained on her for the longest time as he conversed with Arthur and Percy. Uneasiness bubbled up in her stomach until she finally looked away. Nonetheless, she could still feel the heat of its gaze as she tried to focus on the remains of her dinner.

"You're unusually quiet 'Mione" Harry said while Mrs. Weasley began setting out dessert.

"I've just got a lot on my mind, is all."

"You don't have to do this, you know." Harry whispered just quietly enough for her to hear.

She gave him a hard look and shook her head. "Later" She mouthed.

Hermione was lost in thought once again. She knew the nature of Harry's misconception. He thought that her anxiety stemmed from trying to find the location of the real Horcrux. He also probably thought her anxiety was because of the plan that they had discussed before Hermione left for summer holiday.

Yet, she knew that Harry and Ron had spent their summer planning their escape out very thoroughly. They planned to leave tomorrow morning before everyone else woke. Mrs. Weasley would have her hands full with getting all of their school lists together as well as attending the Order meeting that McGonnagal had planned for that morning. With all of the hustle and bustle, the trio's absence wouldn't be discovered until they were halfway across England.

Hermione did feel a bit uneasy about running away from Grimwald Place in the dead of the night – away from Molly, Arthur, and Remus.

After dessert, the guests began to slowly filter out as goodnights were said. Hermione took this as her cue to retire as well and faked a yawn.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley. That was a lovely dinner. Thank you."

"Not at all, my dear." She smiled warmly. "I left some relief-of-pain potion up in your room in case you have some tenderness from … from your fall."

Hermione nodded and thanked Molly once more before climbing the flight of stairs to Harry and Ron's room.

"Lights out at midnight, boys!" Molly called after them.

"Yes, mum." Ron grumbled out, faking disappointment for the first time in his life. He knew that the sooner that everyone went to bed then the sooner Harry, Hermione, and him would be free to make the final preparations to leave.

Remus gave Hermione and encouraging smile as he ventured down the hallway to his room, yet she could only mirror a thin smile back that she suspected looked more like a grimace.

She closed the door to Harry and Ron's room and took a seat on Harry's bed. A moment of pregnant silence permeated the room as none of them could decide on what to say.

"Do you have everything ready?" Harry asked Hermione in a low voice.

Hermione nodded. In fact, she had their things packed six months ago. The shrunken handbag that she charmed to fit all of their things was safely buried at the bottom of her Hogwarts trunk.

"Alright guys" The uneasiness in Harry's voice spread to the other two, "this is the last time to back out. I won't think any less of you if you do – in fact, I'd be relieved – because I don't know what we will face out there and ... and ..."

The last part of the sentence pained him to say out loud.

"... and I can't guarantee that you'll come out alive. Blimey, I probably won't even come out alive."

Ron looked sick and Hermione hastily wiped the tears off of her cheeks.

"We're with you until the end, mate." Ron replied and Hermione nodded mutely.

* * *

Hermione tossed beneath the blankets that night. Sleeping was impossible even though her mind and body cried for rest. All she could do was lay quietly and listen to Ginny's light snoring and trace the patterns of silver light that the moon casted on the wall.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione's wristwatch indicated that it was three o'clock. In a couple of hours Mrs. Weasley would be up preparing a big breakfast feast for everyone. They had two hours to gather their things, escape Grimmauld Place, and get as far away from everyone as possible.

_Thank Merlin Ginny is a heavy sleeper_, Hermione thought to herself as she gathered up a knapsack and the charmed purse that carried most of their things. She tucked her wand safely into her jacket pocket looked at Ginny one final to make sure that she was asleep before she gingerly closed their bedroom door behind herself.

The hallway was pitch black and it took some time for Hermione's eyes to become acclimated to the lack of light. She tried to concentrate and strain her ears so she could detect if anyone was awake, but the only sounds she could hear was the thrumming of her racing heartbeat. Hermione felt her way to Harry and Ron's room and knocked twice. Two forms emerged but she couldn't distinguish who was who in the dark. One figure motioned her to follow him and they all crept down the hallway.

When they made it to the staircase, Hermione felt a cold dread of panic set in as she tried to figure out how three fully grown wizards were going to make it down the old staircase without it creaking and waking Molly or Arthur who were sleeping in the first bedroom at the top of the landing.

One of the figures motioned for her to follow him down the hallway and motioned to Sirius's old room. Inside, a single candle flickered on the bedside table. There was no breeze in the room, yet the shadows seemed to dance the walls and ceiling like monsters looming over the trio.

"Harry, what are we doing?" Hermione whispered but was only met with a stern look as Harry got down onto his stomach and crawled underneath Sirius's old four-poster bed. She heard him shuffling underneath and then heard his voice whisper out, "Pass me the bags."

She knelt down at the edge of the bed and looked underneath. Harry's head was sticking up out of the floor; the top of his head just about scraped the bottom of the mattress.

_Of course, leave it to Sirius to have a secret passage out of the house in his own room_. Hermione mused as she stuffed the bags underneath the bed for Harry to grab. She followed the bags and crawled under the bed feet first. When her legs reached the hole, she inched her stomach off of the ledge so she could quietly place her feet onto the solid steps.

_Lumos_, she whispered. The wood on the stairs was discolored and worn but seemed sturdy and, more importantly, quiet. Ron came soon after her and gingerly replaced the boards that covered the hole. They descended the steep staircase and found a door at the end of the hallway. The door opened into the empty kitchen that still smelled faintly of the stew that they ate the night before. The embers in the hearth glowed peacefully and spread just enough light to determine whether the coast was clear.

Harry ducked under his invisibility cloak and upon seeing the empty kitchen motioned for Ron and Hermione to follow him.

She missed the times when all three of them were small enough to fit underneath the cloak, now as fully grown adults, the cloak only comfortably covered one individual. Again, Harry checked the hallway for any signs of people and motioned for the duo to follow him.

Hermione's felt like her blood had been replaced with ice water. Despite all of the time she spent sneaking around Hogwarts with Harry and Ron, she could do nothing to calm her fraying nerves as they tried to maneuver their way to the front door.

Her hand grasped the cool metallic door handle and opened the door just wide enough for her to slip her body through.

Ron was already at the front door. They were so close, but as she was closing the kitchen door a hand grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the kitchen. She balked at the unexpected physical contact and nearly bit down on the hand that stifled the scream that arose from her throat. Her hands were immobilized as the invisible figure pinned her none-too-gently up against the table.

The figure removed the disillusionment charm that he was using and Hermione couldn't be more crestfallen to see that her captor was one of the last people that she wanted to see at that moment – Remus Lupin.

"Hermione, are you crazy? You are going to get yourself killed." he whispered.

She stood frozen in place and looked into Remus's golden flaked eyes with her mouth agape. For once in her life Hermione had nothing to say. Responses filled with defiance and anger as well as ones filled with fear and horror tore through her mind.

"I'm sorry." was all she could manage.

"I can't believe you were going to just leave. What is wrong with you? Have you lost your senses! Think of Molly ... think of me. It would kill me if something happened to you."

A tornado of emotions swept through Hermione's head. She felt embarrassed and guilty for causing Remus pain, but she also felt that she owed her loyalty to Harry and Ron.

"I'm sorry Remus. I have to do this." Hermione said, her voice shaking. "You were there for your friends – for James and Sirius – and now I have to be there for mine. I won't let Harry do this alone."

"There has to be another way. I will not lose you." he replied fiercely.

She had never seen Lupin look this way before. His eyes blazed with a fiery passion and his normally soft and calm demeanor was contorted into something severe, wild, and almost feral.

"Remus, I'm sorry. We have to do this." she quietly pleaded.

"No." was his response.

"Remus, please!" she pleaded, "We have no place at Hogwarts anymore. Not with Snape as the Headmaster. Sending Harry to Hogwarts would be like sending him to his death."

His now golden eyes seemed to bore right into her soul as he stared intently at her for what seemed like an hour. Finally he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her delicately on her cheek. Hermione's stomach tingled and threatened to flop right out of her body as she breathed in the smell of parchment, lemon drops, and earthy soil. The temperature in the room seemed to double and her arm burned slightly from his touch.

"I want to come with you." he replied.

"No, you can't. I need you to be here to distract Molly long enough for us to get far away from here. She will be furious, but a distraction will give us enough time to get out of London."

"Where will you go? I will meet you there" he pleaded.

"I'm sorry Remus. I can't tell you. You can't follow us."

She removed his hand from her arm and placed her bracelet inside of his open hand. "This bracelet was given to me by my mother. It is my last thing to remember her by and it means a lot to me. Take good care of it because I will be back for it. I promise you." Hermione whispered.

Remus eyes never left her as she slipped past him and crept quietly down the hallway to rejoin Ron and Harry. The sun was just beginning to peak above the horizon when Hermione shut the front door.

Into the quiet early morning, Remus said words that he had never spoken to anyone else before as his hand closed around Hermione's bracelet.

"I love you." He whispered.

**A.N. Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review. (I appreciate all types of comments as long as they are constructive since I'm trying to improve my writing skills). Also, I'm still looking for a Beta, so if you are talented and knowledgeable about things like plot, cannon, characterization, and writing action scenes, I would appreciate it if you would PM me.**


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